Fiona Frost: Order of the Black Moon (19 page)

“
W
here are we headed off to
first
, Detective
?
”
I said
, popping two pill
s into my mouth.

The water cooled my fiery throat
,
so I took a few more long sips, swallowing as slowly as possible.

“I have narrowed down the restaurants for the victim to have
dined
previously
to her
death.
I
’m
almost certain she was at the Jade Palace, a
Chinese
place over on Copper Street.”

“
That place
is a dump!
”
Maddie shouted from the backseat.

“
Yeah,
I don’t think I’ve
ever eaten there,” I exclaimed, taking another long gulp of my icy cold water.

“Well, I spoke to Melanie Newsted again this morning.
I f
igured she might be willing to speak while Dimitri wasn’t sitting next to her.”

“Melanie is Victoria’s mom right?”

“Yes, you’re right.
Well, she said she was at a craft fair
two hours away in Houston
.
Her story checks out because she ha
d
a gas receipt for the afternoon
prior to
the murder when she filled up the tank of her car on her way out of town
.
She also has
mu
ltiple receipts for various thing
s
she purchased
during the
two
days she attended this festival.
Seems as though she
has a hobby of making
jewelry out of garbage items like cans, straws, and things like that and sells them at these fairs.
”

“
That’s kind of awesome
,” Maddie added.

“
Victoria, still in jail, backed up her mother’s story.
She said her
mom
frequently
attends out of town
craft festivals
to supplement her income
.
Victoria
stated her mother left
late afternoon or early evening
and
did not come
home until after the craft festival
—
two days later
.
This
corroborates
Mela
nie’s story,
”
he
said, making a wide turn.

“Where else does Melanie work
?
”
I asked, chugging down another gulp of water
, gazing at the hazy sky.

“
T
he prison.
She’s a guard for the women’s
unit
and reports directly to the warden.”

“Is she a member of the vampire cult
?
”
I asked abruptly, finishing the last half gulp of water in my bottle
, trying to hold it as long as I could in my throat before I swallowed
.

“No, she
’s
not a member.
She has
many
piercings
,
but other than that, she is quite normal looking
.
Good
shape, tall woman with short brown hair, wears glasses.
Looks like a
regular
mom on most accounts.
Definitely doesn’t look
as though
she’d live with
Dimitri LeMorte, if you ask me,”
he
said, pulling the Impala to a stop sign and putting on
the
turn signal.

“I can’t believe those guys are still in jail.
I mean, what if they didn’t do it
,
and they are being held like that.
Just because they can’t make the bail because they are poor.
And then someone like Camber Johnson
,
who is one of them
,
is out about town, having fun,” I scoffed
,
turning around to capture Maddie’s reaction to my snarky comments
.

She
gave me a coy smirk.
I remembered I
still needed to tell
her about Carden Doyle and Haley going out on Friday but figure
d this was not the right time.

“Here we are, folks,”
he
sang as he pulled the Impala into a parking spa
ce in front of the restaurant.

A
rectangular vinyl sign
hung in the front by a shredded rope
that read
Jade Palace
, Open 24 Hours,
in large, red block letters with one corner folded down
.
We stepped out of the car and a
refreshing
gust of wind brushed against my face, cooling my pathologically
heated
skin
.
Through the murky window, I saw
plastic vines draped over em
pty ornamental pots and vases.

“Tacky décor, huh
?
”
I whispered t
o Maddie as we entered the restaurant, a strong aroma of hard-boiled eggs
took over m
y senses
.

We crept quietly on
the
worn
-out
red carpet towards the back counter
. The owner
was waiting for us.
Not another
soul in the place
,
but I figured it was a tad early for dinner.
O
n the c
halkboard next to the register was a hand-scrawled
special of pumpkin drink and fermented tofu noodle
s
.
It sounded anything but appetizing
,
but the special was running for $2.95
.
S
omeone on a tight budget might find
it to be
an attractive meal.
I pointed at the board and
the detective
cracked a smile
, nodding.

The elderly Asian man behind the counter
,
lucky to hit 5’3”
, had
weathered cheeks and a
salt-and-pepper
ed
hairline
, albeit diminishing
.
His
oversized glasses
were
smeared
with fingerprint
s
around the edges.
He patiently waited for Detective Chase to speak, his thin hands pe
rched awkwardly on the counter
as if he were holding an imaginary tube
.

“Sir, I
’m
Detective
Chase, the one that you spoke to on the phone this morning.
I understand you have
run
this pumpkin drink and fermented tofu
noodle
special all week, is that correct?”

“Yes, sir,” the demure
m
an re
sponded, nodding
exceedingly
slowly as he spoke.

“Can I please see the dining receipts for last Thursday between the hours of midnight and 2
AM
?”

He
turned
around and
scurried
to a desk to the side of the open kitchen
where a portly
Hispanic chef was diligently cutting vegetables
.
The
owner
pulled slips of paper from a bank bag and headed back
towards us
.

“Yes, sir.
Here you go, sir,” the man said with a thick accent as he handed the receipts
over
with
a
bony hand
.

The detective
thumbed through the re
ceipts until he stopped on one that caught his attention.
It was paid by credit card
—and the card belonged to
Jody James, the victim.
It
listed two
specials.
This placed
her
with another person an hour before she was murdered
, as it would be highly unlikely she would come alone and eat two specials
by herself
—she
was a
tiny woman
.

“Well, this is exactly what we thought.
Can I please have this
receipt
or at least a copy of it?”

“You can have it
,
sir, I have copies,” he nodded
slowly
, raising his chin to view
the detective
through the
clean midsection
of his glasses.

Detective Chase
slipped the receipt into a slot in his leather notebook holder.

“One last thing.
Can I show you some pictures and
will
you tell me who you saw with this customer that night?”

“I will try to remember,”
the owner
said softly
.

He
grabbed pictures from his notepad holder and lined
them
on the counter
.

“Now, do you see Jody James?
The one that paid for the meal?”

“Yes, it is her,” the Asian man said as he pointed
a bony finger
to the photograph of the victim.

“Perfect.
Now do you remember who was with her
,
and is that person
in any of these pictures
?”

The man hesitated
, staring
at the pictures for a long moment before pointin
g to the picture of Emily Vance
. He raised his head.

“It was her.
I am su
re,” he said softly, nodding
confidently.

“Thank you.
We will be in touch if we need anything further.
You’ve been a lot of help,”
the detective
bellowed as he gestured
for us to leave the restaurant.

On the way back to the high school for Maddie
to pick up her car,
he
update
d us
on
what was happening with
Gerald Smith
per his report from the document specialist in Silver Springs
.
It seemed as though
Gerald
was receiving letters while he was in prison
,
and the envelopes were
left behind
in his
prison cell
, but the letters were missing.
He
handed me his phone
open to a
picture of the envelopes.
A
pastel pink
,
the
hand
writing on the front
was
feminine
.
S
trange
that
anybody would
write
to a prisoner, but the pastel envelopes did signify a romantic relationship in a sense.
At least, we were taking it that way until we proved otherwise.
It could have been letters from his mother
,
but
a heart
had been
drawn on the back of
some of the
envelope
s.

He
divulged the plan to comb the
neighborhood stores for the source of the envelopes
,
as the
letters all had a Godley Grove postmark
.
If
he found the source
of the envelopes
, t
he store
could pull
receipts
like
at the Jade Palace
—and once he had the buyer, he could find
Gerald Smith.

Detective Chase pulled up behind Maddie’s car and we climbed out.
The Tylenol wasn’t doing the job, and I was quickly being overcome by
my illness.
I
scooted over and told
Agent Bronson I’d ride with Maddie to my house since it was such a short drive
, and he agreed to follow
.
We
climbed
into
her
M
ini Cooper
and
drove to
Nikale Street
,
Agent Bronson following
closely
behind
and Maddie’s eyes glued to the road
.
I admitted
to her
I was sick
with a fever and sore throat
and received an instant
lecture
about how
I can’t get
better
without
rest.
She was like my second Janice, always looking out for my best interest
s
.
As
she
turned the corner onto
our street
,
a
strange
man
scrambled
across the street and dodged in between
two houses.
Bizarre.